


Let the breeze take us places

by LordOfTheNargles



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Ending, Everybody Lives, M/M, Prologue, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:40:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordOfTheNargles/pseuds/LordOfTheNargles
Summary: The world watched as Uchiha Izuna fell to the ground, his body bleeding rapidly. Tobirama stood behind him, his sword hand outstretched. Blood dripped slowly from the cold blade. Inhuman was how they described his brother, friend and foe alike and in that moment Itama could see a sliver of what everyone else saw.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/gifts).



> This is a prologue of sorts to Blackkat's amazing IzuIta fic, 'You give me feelings that I adore' I hope you like it! <3

Smoke billowed as the sound of clashing metal twanged through the bloody battlefield. Bodies littered the ground as the sun melted into the horizon, and yet the two fronts didn’t seem intent on retreating any time soon. Itama drew in a ragged breath, darting over tangled hands and feet twisted at odd angles and barely managed to avoid tripping with his exhaustion. Even when dead, he thought with a spot of dark humour, the enemy is hell bent on bringing him to his knees. He spotted Hashirama a way off, Mokuton roots emerging from the ground as they tried to pin down Madara’s Susanoo. Another breath and Itama moves, quick as lightning, evading an incoming blade aimed at his chest. He flips his kunai into his hands before bringing it down into the man’s back.

Stomach rolling slightly, he turned away from the moaning man. Torn muscles, tendons in ruin- the list of injuries he has caused seem to add up; Itama could do nothing but try and focus again. A rush of water aimed at his head zooms forward and he flips, his feet landing with a loud squelch into something he would rather not think about. Fear wracked through his body, pumping adrenaline through his veins. Another attack, a wave this time, but he was ready. He moved to the left, hands signing furiously. A rush of air torpedoed from his palms. Surreptitiously, he threw his tiny senbon needles into the attack as it hit his enemy. Cuts, - and ducked away from an incoming kunai. Breathe, he reminded himself.

“Itama!” Tobirama bellowed from behind him. Sinking low into the floor, someone’s foot jamming into his side, he ducked away from lightning infused water. Focus, he berated himself. Focus, focus, focus. He stood up quickly. The mud on the floor was getting increasingly harder to trudge through without falling and impaling himself on a weapon. Channelling more chakra into his feet, he quickly wiped his blood-stained face and ran forward into the chaos around him. A kick here and a jab there and it seemed that maybe Itama would survive another day. Focus, focus, focus, he repeated zealously.

An inhuman roar ricocheted through the clashing plains, a sound unlike anything Itama had ever heard. It spoke of grief, hate, fury, and an unmistakable loss. He felt it sink deep into the hollows of his bones and he moved forward, propelled with the unrivalled hurt in the voice. His instinct to _healmendfix_ clashed with his cowards will to survive, but he shook it off. He ran forward through the people that seemed to have frozen, as though the sound had bewitched them into stillness. The world watched as  Uchiha Izuna fell to the ground, his body bleeding rapidly. Tobirama stood behind him, his sword hand outstretched. Blood dripped slowly from the cold blade. Inhuman was how they described his brother, friend and foe alike. In that moment Itama could see a sliver of what everyone else saw; gone was the caring older brother and in his place a beast forged from a desperate man's will to protect those he loved, and avenge those he has lost.

A clatter and suddenly Madara was at his brother’s side. The wide gash in Izuna’s chest was still bleeding profusely and at this rate he would not last long. Judging by the murderous expression on the older Uchiha’s face, he had come to the same conclusion. Itama quickened his pace. He could see Hashirama pleading with the man but Itama couldn’t hear him over the thrum of blood pulsing through his body. Stopping just behind his eldest brother, he watched as clear untempered madness bled into the red, raging eyes of the Uchiha. The pleas of peace came to an abrupt stop as Itama stumbled forward, towards the fallen brothers. A hand reached out to him but he deftly managed to avoid it, stepping closer to the pair. Madara turned to look at him and it took all Itama’s strength not to cower back.

“Itama!” Hashirama hollered at his back but again, he ignored him. Tobirama barked out something like a strange cross between a choked insult and his name; he ignored that too. Crimson eyes watched his every move, and Itama would be hard pressed to believe he was anything more than prey being sized up by a deadly predator under that gaze. He stopped before them, his chakra crackling beneath his fingertips as his body twitched nervously. Something not quite like a snarl, but entirely like the rattling of a snake before a strike, drew out of Madara’s mouth like a plume of smoke, and Itama ducked. The kunai glanced by his cheek, cutting him sharply but he kept still.

“Let me heal him.” It was a string of unintelligible syllables held together by a distinctly breaking voice. He didn’t know if he should feel mortified or scared of the impending doom that was Tobirama once he was out of this predicament- hopefully alive. Although, he thought cheekily, knowing his brother, Tobirama would find a way to bring him back to life just to yell at him.

“Itama get back here!” his brother roared, a desperate, forceful sound. Itama felt all the more saddened by it.

“Let me heal him.” He pressed, replacing the quivering tone with an iron edge.

“You Senju have done enough.” Was the raspy reply echoing out of the fallen Uchiha’s mouth. Madara looked lost as more of his brother’s life blood spilled onto his hands.

“Madara, your brother will die. Let me heal him, I am the most accomplished medic in my clan.” He found himself pleading. “Please.” He added after the silence stretched.

“This is a trap, brother!”

Itama vowed to punch this stupid man whenever he would get the chance. As it were, he only drew out a kunai from his holster. Madara tensed, his eyes narrowing instantly. Itama took a second to breathe before he plunged the kunai into his palm quickly, before he could lose his nerve. Blood spilled from the wound rapidly, the pain causing fire to shoot up his hand. He gritted his teeth before raising his bloody fist towards the brothers.

“I swear I will do everything I can to save him.”

It took a moment for the shock to slide off Madara’s face and be replaced with an exasperated, yet shaky, smile. He shook his head slightly, his gaze locking somewhere behind Itama- towards Hashirama, before returning to him.

“You Senju are all dramatic fools. I shouldn’t be surprised.” His posture eased slightly, not so much towering over Izuna yet still hovering. Itama took that as an invitation and walked forward. His palms sweated slightly and an old tremor of doubt leaked into his mind, filling him with corrosive thoughts. Weak, weak, weak. He set his jaw, firmly dismissing the ugly voices and sat down nervously. He leaned over Izuna, cutting away the cloth around the wound with practised ease. There was no water, yet a quick suiton quickly took care of that. He cleaned the wound as best as he could, pressing down with his free hand, before bringing them both on the older man’s chest. A faint heartbeat sounded beneath his palms, one of which still bled slightly onto a pale chest. He took a deep breath before exhaling slightly, sending a trickle of chakra into his palms. Izuna’s chest was a mess inside, organs severed and internal bleeding. Itama channelled more chakra into the wound, slowly healing him. A strange sensation trickled up his palms as his chakra melded with the uchiha’s, but he paid it no mind. His body tingled as he continued to heal the older man.

Izuna was staring at him, his face carved into an odd expression, his eyes wide. Itama didn’t have time to decipher it, his concentration wholly on the Uchiha’s wound. He channelled more chakra, ignoring how his hands shook with the effort and how his head pounded thunderously. He didn’t stop healing until there was nothing but a small scar adorning the man’s chest, the only thing to show for his effort besides his laboured breathing. He didn’t dare move for the time being, his body too close to collapsing. He wasn’t sure the Uchiha would appreciate an unconscious Senju dropping dead into his lap- regardless if said Senju had just saved his life and Itama was sure that would have been the case. Barely stifling a snort at the wide eyed expression on the man’s face, he tried to calm his beating heart. Izuna ran his fingers over the would be mortal wound. He threw another strange expression towards Itama, who was too tired to notice.

The strain of the battle and the chakra needed to heal the injury were taking a toll on him. He was however, a Senju first and foremost, and that meant an undeniable streak of thick-headed stubbornness that closely bordered the line of foolishness. If you asked Madara, he would say it crossed well into that line- that there was practically no boundary to distinguish them. That was one reason no one asked Madara anything. A slight squeeze to his shoulders alerted Itama of Hashirama’s presence. He tilted his head back to face his eldest brother, who in turn gave him a beaming grin. Tobirama stood a way off, his expression impassive, yet the subtle set of his shoulders- the slight angling of his body, screamed concern. Itama smiled at his brother slightly before turning back.

“What do you say Madara? Can we accomplish peace? Will all this fighting ever come to an end?” Hashirama spoke with the Uchiha clan leader. Their voices drifted slightly, the soft tones lulling him into closing his eyes. His inner Tobirama was berating him and yet- it wouldn’t hurt to close his eyes for a moment, would it?

“This could be a plot you know brother,”

The suspicious tone of voice grated on every last one of Itama’s shrivelled nerves _. The ungrateful bastard_ , he seethed.

“They save me just to win you over.” It continued.

Itama couldn’t restrain himself from knocking the Uchiha upside the head. “Are you an idiot? Or were you hit on the head too hard Uchiha?”

Izuna choked out a sound, his wide eyes staring at the Senju in shock.

Hashirama groaned exasperatedly. “Can I please achieve peace without either of you killing Izuna? Please? Because I’d really like that, thank you.”

“You vile Senju!” Izuna spluttered.

Itama felt it was going to be long peace talk. He closed his eyes again and tried to will the smile of his face. He failed.


End file.
